


Strange and Bitter Relief

by HCN



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 007 Fest, 007 Fest One-A-Day Prompts, M/M, Q/OMC (offscreen), past James Bond/Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 06:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HCN/pseuds/HCN
Summary: The fact that he and Bond were no longer together, of course, did not mean that Q didn’t worry about him.It did, however, add a new dimension to their working relationship.





	Strange and Bitter Relief

**Author's Note:**

> For [timetospy](http://timetospy.tumblr.com)'s [list of prompts](http://hydr0gencyan1de.tumblr.com/post/162171294594/007-fest-prompt-list) for 007 Fest.
> 
> Day 2: “Your boyfriend is standing outside in the rain like one of those cheesy romance films.”

At work Q barely noticed the passage of time, except in the general sense. He knew, for example, when it was time for most of MI6 to leave because suddenly the disturbances from other departments stopped. Then, a few hours later, he would notice when Q-branch emptied out, except for the handful of people who, like him, had difficulty pulling themselves away from his work. That meant it was late – late enough that he should start getting home.

It was because of how empty the room was that Q realised he had company. When he looked up, it genuinely surprised him to see James Bond standing in the doorway, looking at him.

Q felt his face tighten, like an instinct.

“James,” he said, before catching himself. “007.”

“Q.”

A silence lingered with them for a moment. Bond walked over to where Q was working (far too slowly, in Q’s opinion, and for the entire time that he made his way closer Q was aware that he was holding his breath, and the way that his chest tightened), and then finally Bond was in front of him.

“Here.” A lighter was placed on the table, next to Q’s laptop, except it wasn’t a lighter but a transmitter. Beside it, a necklace, once left in the care of 004. The former 004, Q supposed. Both items were still in one piece. It was a shame about the other five items Q sent out with them – it was a shame about 004.

“I trust these served you both well?” Q asked.

“I’ll submit a feedback report.”

“Oh, lovely,” Q said. And how fitting that the only time Bond ever felt like following protocol around Q was after they broke up. Made worse was the fact that they separated amicably, Q thought. They were still friends, for all intents and purposes – or they would be, if only their jobs allowed them more time to see one another. When they went out for drinks with some of their other friends, with Tanner and Eve and the occasional double-oh, a few of Q’s co-workers, they’d had a lovely time.

It was only at times like these that things were uncomfortable, really – when Q was getting his equipment back in one piece, Q supposed because Bond _did_ want their separation to be friendly, and amicable, and to do otherwise would look so aggressive. Instead it just stood out, horribly. Or when Bond and Q might have once consoled each other over the loss of an agent, but now only stood awkward in front of one another. Exposed, Q thought, although he couldn’t say if Bond ever felt that way.

“She did a good job,” Q said. “I’m not sure if you heard, over the radio – I think you were unconscious by then –”

“I expected as much from her,” Bond said. “She wouldn’t have made it that far if she couldn’t reasonably hold her own, you know.”

“I wasn’t saying otherwise.”

Bond nodded. They stood in silence for a moment. Q fiddled with the equipment to check that it really _was_ back in one piece, then looked at his laptop. He checked the time, and sighed. “I suppose I ought to be getting back, now. So should you, 007. Why are you even here, anyway, at this hour?”

“Me?” Bond asked. “I just got back. Thought I’d finish off some loose ends, before I turned myself for my mandatory recovery time.”

“And these are the loose ends you’re talking about?” Q asked.

Bond looked to the table, where Q gestured to the returned equipment. “Well, I suppose so.”

“I see.”

“What about yourself?”

“What _about_ myself?” Q asked. “Am I one of your loose ends?”

A smile flickered past Bond’s face, and he looked like James again. Q could remember the days when that would remind him how freshly fond of Bond he was, and perhaps he felt that now. Or maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t sure anymore.

“Why are you still here?”

“I still have plenty of work to do,” Q said. “Work doesn’t stop down in Q-branch just because a mission went wrong.”

“You should go home,” Bond said. “Get some rest. Your boyfriend is standing outside in the rain like one of those cheesy romance films. I saw him on the way in. I think he was trying to decide whether he should come back for you, or not.”

Q snorted. “Did he recognise you?”

“I don’t think so,” Bond said. “I can be discrete when I want to be.”

“Well, he knows that I’m working,” Q said. “If he hasn’t come back for me, I assume I have his blessing.”

“Maybe so,” Bond said. “But you should go to him. Let him look after you for the night, so you can come back here tomorrow and really get some work done. There will be a lot to do, I think. This really was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

Q might have wanted to comfort Bond, or to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, what happened. That he didn’t have to blame himself for 004’s swift demise. That it had been painless, and fast. A single shot to the head. At least Q had that comfort, having watched her go down on the hacked CCTV footage.

Would it be _right_ to tell Bond any of that? It wasn’t something that Bond advertised freely, the fact that he blamed himself for everything. It was something he only learned when he’d been dating Bond, after all. When he’d been in love with him. Even then it wasn’t something Bond ever confessed to – it was just something he noticed. Was he allowed to mention it now?

“What about you?” Q asked. “Where will you go?”

Bond’s eyebrows raised. “Well, I guess I’ll be going back home after this. And after that – well, god knows where. But you don’t have to worry about me, Q.”

A warning, or something less sinister?

“You know I can’t help that.”

“Yes,” Bond sighed. “I know. Nonetheless – I think you should try not to worry. Not about me, at any rate. Go home. Get some rest. There’s someone waiting for you who wants to look after you, I believe. Where is it he works again?”

“He’s an analyst,” Q said.

“Ah,” Bond said. Q didn’t know what he was reading into that. Maybe that Q was defensive, protecting his boyfriend against someone who was so much more incredible, in every sense of the word, where Q could barely believe that Bond was real most of the time. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe he saw the relief Q felt, that despite himself was exacerbated by today’s disaster. It was nice to be dating someone who’s life wasn’t constantly in danger.

The fact that he and Bond were no longer together, of course, did not mean that Q didn’t worry about him. It didn’t mean he could forget that Bond was in danger, either. It was just that now Q had at least one part of his life that he didn’t risk losing every time Bond got on a plane, or a train, or a helicopter, or whatever peculiar mode of transport he was taking this time.

“I should probably finish,” Q said. “It sounds like you have places to go, even if it’s only your bedroom.”

“ _Finish_ , Q,” Bond said. “That means going home, at some point. Looking after yourself.” _Letting someone look after you,_ although Bond didn’t say that out loud.

“I will,” Q said. “I expect you to do the same. It wouldn’t do for us to lose two double-ohs in the course of a week, I don’t think.”

When Bond left Q allowed himself a quiet moment to consider what just happened before going back to his work, to _finish_ , like he’d promised Bond. He supposed he wasn’t alone in still worrying about what happened to Bond, even now.

It was a strange and bitter relief, but he accepted it.

 


End file.
